Second Youth
by Dire Banshee
Summary: Duringthe events of Smile Time, Spike and Angel find themselves in a unique situation and must turn to the Executioner for help. Crossover with anita blake.
1. Chapter 1

Laurell K. is the Goddess and Joss is her Consort. What? It could happen.

**Second Youth**

Response to the Mommy Anita challenge on Twisting the Hellmouth. Just a series of long and short scenes that may or may not become an actual story at some point. It doesn't meet all of the challenge requirements, but it's close.

Disclaimer: Yes, it all belongs to me! Just kidding, please don't sue me *gives puppy dog eyes*

'Anything could have happened to him, to us... You just don't mess around with the nest egg!' -Frolo 'Smile Time'

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"This is all your fault, Spike," Angel grumbled.

"My fault? How the bloody hell is this my fault!" the blond demanded.

The dark vampire was silent for a moment, glowering at his annoying grand-childe.

"I'm not really sure how just yet but something is telling me that it is."

"Oh, really?" Spike asked, hands on his hips. "And would that be the same 'something' that told you to barge into that room, too?"

Angel gave his best 'You don't know anything, Spike, now shut up' look, which usually meant that Spike was right and Angel just didn't want to admit it, before continuing his trudge through the woods. It was turning into the night from hell with the rain, the having no idea where they were, and the fact that both vampires were only about three feet tall all being key contributing factors. Angel crawled over a log that was almost as tall as he was then landed in a mud puddle when his too-short legs got tangled in his coat. Spike hopped over the fallen tree with feline grace to land beside the cursing, game-faced, five-year-old and snorted with amusement.

" 'S a good look for ya, Peaches."

"This is all your fault, Spike," Angel growled again.

"Bollocks, I'm the one that told you ta leave the bloody coat behind but no, can't listen to old Spike, now, can you?"

"You kept your coat," Angel pointed out as he stood and tried to wipe the muck out of his hair. God, he'd kill for a shower.

"You're out of your bleeding mind if you think I'm leaving this behind!"

The miniature blond lovingly stroked the worn leather he'd wrapped around himself, toga-style, to keep it from dragging in the mud.

"This is my second skin, a part of who I am."

"You stripped it off the body of a dead Slayer, Spike," Angel reminded him as they once again started walking.

"Gives it sentimental value then."

Angel only growled. Suddenly, the trees ended, opening up into someone's large back yard. A big house stood in front of them, lights shining through opened sliding glass doors and reveling a man and a woman sitting at a table, talking and drinking out of coffee mugs, as a second man moved about the kitchen. The scent of lasagna drifted to the two mini vamps from inside the house.

"There," Angel said. "Maybe they'll let us use their phone. We can call Fred or Wes to come get us."

Spike shrugged indifferently.

"Lead on, O Fearless One."

(Anita POV)

Somewhere, somebody was laughing at me. I didn't know who they were, but I would have gladly shot them.

It was a quiet night, which, for me, means no zombies, no vampire politics, and no cops calling me to grizzly murder scenes in the middle of the night. It was just supposed to be me, Micah, and Nathaniel, a lazy night at home, and Nathaniel's home-made lasagna, with no emergencies of any kind! Which was probably why I had two little boys, who couldn't be older than four or five, both dirty, soaking wet and wrapped in adult sized leather coats, standing on my back porch and tapping on the half-open sliding glass doors, asking if they could use my phone.

Oh, yeah. Someone was laughing real hard.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two - Phone Home

I've begged and pleaded but alas, the characters are still not mine, except for Spike. What? Oh. It appears that he's not mine either *grumbles* Oh well, at least I get to play with them :)

Gaining entrance to the house turned out to be a bit harder than they'd anticipated.

"May we use your phone, ma'am? I think we're lost," had barely left Angel's mouth when the three normal sized adults all seemed to go on alert.

"Anita, don't," came from a man with eyes a color Angel had never seen on a human, while the second man said, "Don't invite them in, Anita!"

At the same time, the woman, Anita apparently, drew a gun and aimed it in Angel and Spike's direction. Holding the gun in one hand she used the other to pull a cross from under the collar of her dark blue shirt. The two vampires each took an involuntary step back, fighting the urge to go into game-face, knowing instinctively that such a move would only exacerbate things. Anita's eyes flicked from the cross to Spike and Angel and back again, like she was waiting for the holy object to do something. After a moment she seemed satisfied enough to put up her gun but kept the cross outside of her shirt.

"Please, miss," Spike said in his best little-boy-lost voice as his baby-blues grew impossibly wide. "We won't hurt you. We really do just want to use the telephone."

They had both agreed to pretend to be the ages they appeared but Angel still fought the urge to laugh at Spike. The woman did it for him and it wasn't a nice laugh, more a disbelieving snort, but she did ease from her defensive posture.

"Forgive my skepticism," she said. "But usually, when vamps come knocking on my door, they never wanna 'just' anything. And you two can drop the cute act, I know that you're both over a century old."

"Necromancer?" Spike asked and grimaced when Anita nodded.

"I didn't think child vamps would last a century on their own?" the long-haired man asked from his place by an open drawer. Probably reaching for a weapon, Angel decided.

"They don't," he said, implying that they weren't alone now. "But we do need to use the phone. You're a necromancer, we all know that you can stop any funny business on our end with a word, not that we're gonna try anything.

"Right, Spike," it wasn't a question. The small blond was silent, watching Angel with an innocent expression on his face, his arms crossed over his small chest, hands lost in the depths of the duster's sleeves.

"Right, Spike," Angel prompted again, putting a bit of sire-growl into his voice.

Spike sighed and rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, yeah. Heard ya the first time," he grumbled, then continued under his breath. "Pillock."

Somewhat satisfied, Angel turned his attention to Anita once again. She rolled her eyes at the harmless puppy-dog look she received from the brown-eyed boy, then, against her better judgment, invited the two inside.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

"What do you mean, 'you don't know who I am'?" Angel demanded into the phone, his shrill little boys' voice sounding less than threatening to whoever was on the other end. "I'm Angel! C.E.O. of the L.A. offices of Wolfram and Hart and I want to speak to Winifred Burkle, Wesley Wyndam-Pryce, or Charles Gunn right now!"

"Look, kid," the irritated secretary responded. "I've been all through our records and none of those people work here or at any other branch of Wolfram and Hart, and our C.E.O.'s name is Lindsey McDonald. Now, why don't you get to bed before your parents find out you're prank-calling people halfway across the country in the middle of the night?"

With that, she hung up. Angel stared at the receiver in his tiny hand, fighting the urge to throw the thing across the room, or possibly at Spike who was seated at the kitchen table, kicking his short legs as he devoured his second piece of lasagna and smirking at his grand-sire. Angel settled for kicking the wall, a move he instantly regretted.

"Fuck!" he yelled, grabbing his bare, injured, foot with both hands and hopping around the kitchen on his good leg while Spike almost fell out of his chair for laughing so hard.

(Anita POV)

In the living room, we were discussing what to do with the two vampires, because, judging from the amount of cursing coming from the dark haired one, Angel, I didn't think that anyone was coming for them anytime soon.

"Do you think that someone kidnapped them?" Nathaniel asked.

"Maybe," I said. "But why child vamps? They're usually pretty far down in the pecking order unless they're the favorite of their Master."

Thoughts of Valentina and the reason she had been turned flashed through my mind. Was that what had happened to these two?

"Maybe someone wanted to get them away from their Master," I said. "What if they're like Valentina?"

Nathaniel shuddered and Micah looked ill.

"If they are," he said. "Then their minds have held up really well over the years. You said that the one was almost three hundred?"

I nodded. Micah looked thoughtful for a moment then raked a hand through his hair.

"I don't know what to tell you, Anita," he said at length. "If they were shifters I'd have a better clue on how to handle this but..."

"But they're not shifters," I finished. "They're vampires and there's only one person in this city to go to about vamps."

"Jean-Claude," Nathaniel said and I nodded.

"Jean-Claude."

"We need to get to the Circus."

I sighed. So much for my night off.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three - Meeting the Master

"Okay," Anita said, coming into the kitchen. "We're gonna take you guys to the Master of the City. He should be able to help you."

Spike arched an eyebrow, forkful of lasagna halfway to his mouth.

"Master of the what?" he asked. "Pretentious bugger, ain't he?"

"Shut up, Spike," Angel commanded. "I don't care if he calls himself Bozo the Clown. If he can help us I'm gonna take it."

Spike rolled his eyes and returned to the food on his plate, grumbling under his breath. Angel turned his back on the younger vampire and looked up into the bemused faces of the three normal-sized adults. He selfconsciously ran his hands through his hair before realizing that they were staring at Spike. The blond seemed to notice that fact at the same time.

"What?" he demanded.

"You're eating," the violet-eyed man, Nathaniel, said.

Oh, that, Angel thought.

"Don't mind him," he told them. "His sire was insane and I think she passed it on."

Spike scowled at him.

"You're the one what made her that way, Gramps," he growled.

Angel gave the most world-weary sigh Anita had ever heard from anyone, let alone a five-year-old, then he looked up at them again.

"Can we go see this Master now?" he asked, trying to sound hopeful but Angel didn't really think that these people could help them. He had a sinking feeling that they were a little further from home than a few states.

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An hour later, bacause Angel had insisted on showering first, the five of them were descending the stairs to the resting place of the Master of the City.

"Cutting short your date to visit me, ma petite?" Angel heard a cultured French voice sound from the room Anita had just entered. "I'm touched."

"That's not quite the case," she replied.

Angel wiggled in Micah's arms, wanting to meet this Master on his own two feet even if he would have to look up at the man. Angel wasn't used to looking up to look people in the eye and Anita didn't seem to know anyone under six foot. Micah set the miniture vampire on his feet.

"Thanks," Angel said, doing his best to ignore Spike's snicker as he drew himself to his full height of three foot four and walked into the room.

(Anita POV)

Asher rose from his seat in front of the chess board and joined Jean-Claude as Angel walked into the room, immediately dropping to one knee in front of the French vampires. Micah and Nathaniel, who still carried Spike, followed close behind and looked quizically at me. I shrugged. I'd never seen vampires act like this either.

"Now there's something I'd like to see more often," Spike declaired.

"Don't make me hurt you in front of these nice people, William," Angel growled, his head still bowed to Jean-Claude.

Spike snorted.

"Yeah, like that worked so well the last time."

Jean-Claude looked at me.

"Such interesting people you find, ma petite," he drawled.

I crossed my arms and frowned at him.

"Well this time, they found me. Wandered out of the woods behind my house and wound up on my back porch."

'So there,' I thought, petulently.

Angel was still abasing himself on the floor and I heard Spike, or William as Angel had called him, sigh.

"Would you get up?" he demanded. "You look ridiculous."

"Yes, little one," Jean-Claude said. "Please rise. Such actions are not necessary here."

Angel slowly got to his feet, glancing around the room warily, almost like he was expecting to be attacked.

"You are safe here, little one. We will not harm you."

"Don't mind him," Spike said, then looked at Nathaniel. "You can put me down now, mate."

The wereleopard set the small vampire on his feet.

"Where we're from vamps in our situation get picked off pretty fast."

"Where we're from?" Angel asked.

"Well, we do happen to be in a different world. If you weren't so busy kissin' his arse you'd've noticed that by now."

The small blond crossed his arms and looked smug. The five of us shared a look. Another world?

"I had noticed that, actually," Angel replied. "I was just waiting for you to catch up."

"Uh huh."

Spike looked skeptical. Angel glowered at him.

"Shut up, Spike."


	4. Chapter 4

**Settling In**

Despite much begging, pleading, and idle threats none of it is mine *insert heavy sigh* Oh well, at least I get to play :)

"Was nice of that bloke," Spike said. "Lettin' us stay 'ere."

"Sure," Angel replied. "If you ignore the fact that we're prisoners!"

Spike only rolled his eyes.

"Do you always have to be so bloody dramatic?" he asked. " 'S not like we're in chains, or a dungeon, an' he said we were free to move about like."

He shrugged.

"Don't sound like we're gonna 'ave our secrets tortured outta us anytime soon."

Angel scowled.

"There's a guard on the door," he grumbled.

Spike looked to the closed door, listening to heartbeat beyond and ignoring Angel who continued to complain under his breath, then shrugged and continued exploring the room Jean-Claude had given them. It was made for children, or maybe midgets considering that vampires lived there, with everything downsized and close to the ground. There were two small beds, covered in dark red sheets made out of some kind of silky material that Spike couldn't resist running his hands over, and two small dressers against one wall. He arched an eyebrow at the mirror on another wall then ignored it. Some people needed a mirror whether they actually showed up in one or not. Spike could remember Darla and Dru primping in front of a mirror for hours, as though their reflections would magically appear once every curl and ruffle settled just right.

Angel finally stopped grumbling and turned toward the door at the same moment Spike heard the guards heartbeat pick up.

"Valentina," the werewolf said, a hint of nervousness evident in his voice.

"Hello, Jeffery," a small girl's voice replied. "I was told that there were some petite compagnons for me."

"Umm, I don't think, you're not supposed to..." the guard stammered. "I'm gonna call Jean-Claude."

"And you should, Jeffery," she said. "You should call Jean-Claude. In fact, you should go tell him. He is with Anita right now, you should go."

Spike cocked his head to one side, frowning. There was an odd quality to her voice that reminded him of the times Drusilla thralled people.

"Yeah," they heard Jeffery say. "Yeah, I'll go talk to Jean-Claude."

The sound of footsteps receded down the hall and the little girl laughed, the sound sending chills down their spines. Spike and Angel shared a look and fell into fighting stances as the doorknob turned and the heavy door eased open. The small brunette girl who peeked around the door hardly seemed like a cause for alarm, but it was there nonetheless. She looked them over for a moment before breaking out in a huge grin that should have been cute and charming but only managed to put the dimension tossed vamps even more on edge. She pushed the door open the rest of the way and entered the room, pulling a little red wagon behind her.

"Hello, my little ones," she said and Angel got a good look at what she had in the wagon.

Visibly blanching, he caught Spike's eye and began easing toward the door. Spike followed his grand-sire's slow progress, the child vampire oblivious to their movements as she chattered happily and began picking through the various... things in her little red wagon. The two boys hit the door running, making their way through the labyrinth of passageways towards the large living room area they had first seen. They almost passed Anita and the small group she had with her but slid to a stop and immediately latched onto the woman's legs.

"We're goin' home with you, right?" Spike asked at the same time Angel said, vehemently, "We're not staying here with her!"

Anita looked from the two small vampires attached to her legs to Nathaniel and Micah, then down the hall where Valentina waited and back again. She closed her eyes and sighed.

"I guess you're coming home with me."


	5. Chapter 5

**Settling In - Part Two**

Angel looked around the store with ill-concealed disgust. When had he sunk so low? Tugging at the too big jeans and grumbling under his breath he failed to notice Nathaniel approaching him until the wereleopard held several t-shirts out to him. Angel stared in horror at the bright cartoon characters popping out of the front of the lime green shirt before turning his incredulous gaze on the man holding them.

"What's wrong?" Nathaniel asked, glancing at the shirt. "Don't you like Cars?"

Angel opened his mouth to reply, then rethought his answer and frowned.

"Um..."

Suddenly the offending garment was pulled from the leopard's grasp and Spike was tossing several kid-sized dress shirts at Angel.

"Just ignore him, mate," Spike said. "I don't think Angel's seen a movie since they started puttin' sound with 'em."

He sorted through the shirts he'd taken from the man, shrugged, and tossed them into the cart Anita had left with them before turning to his grand-sire once more.

"Those do ya?" he asked.

Angel glanced down at the shirts, almost afraid of what he'd find, and was pleasantly surprised to find stuff that he'd actually wear, albeit in miniature, and nodded.

"Yeah, thanks."

Spike shrugged and turned to Nathaniel.

"Anita wants us to try on jeans."

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"Oh," the sales clerk gushed. "Aren't they just adorable!"

Spike leered at the pretty attandant, catching her off guard and earning himself a smack from Angel before the dark haired boy grabbed a random pair of jeans and shoved them at the blond, pushing him toward the dressing rooms. He reappeared several moments later, selected several pairs of dress slacks for himself and disappeared into his own fitting room.

Anita shook her head, trying to remind herself to stop thinking of them as kids. They were both over a century old no matter what their bodies and attitudes might suggest. The attendant turned to her, a somewhat strained smile on her face.

"They certainly are..." she trailed off, looking unsure of what she was saying and Anita didn't blame her. How would one finish that sentence?

"Unique," she settled on and Anita snorted.

"You have no idea."


	6. Chapter 6

**Act Your Age**

Angel let out a growl before launching himself at Spike. The two hit the ground, punching, kicking and biting, rolling across the floor as each gained and then lost the upper hand. Suddenly the boys found themselves lifted from the floor by the backs of their shirts.

"Stop this at once!" a stern, French accented voice commanded.

"Oi," Spike yelped. "Lemme down, bloody frog! I'm gonna kill 'em!"

"Love ta see ye try, Willie," Angel snarled.

Spike snarled back, hands curled into claws, reaching for his grand-sire. Both recieved a shake for their troubles.

"Ma petite had charged me with your well beings and there will be no killing nor even fighting while you are here!" Jean-Claude said in his Master of the City voice. "While in my home the two of you will conduct yourselves in a manner befitting the young gentlemen I know you to be!"

"We're not young, bloody French tosser!"

Jean-Claude brought them both up to eye level, his own eyes a solid, drowning blue.

"Then act your ages or I will treat you as the age your bodies and attitudes suggest you are."

The two were silent, then Spike pointed at Angel.

"He started it."

"Did not!"

"Did too!"

"Did not!"

"Did too!"

"Did ..."

Jean-Claude sighed and set the two back on the floor, still arguing the same words back and forth, before walking away, massaging his temples. _Mon_ _dieu_, they were worse than Anita and Richard.


End file.
